


for the caged bird sings (of yearning)

by TheLoyalMouse



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Current-age Viktor Nikiforov, Depression, M/M, Self-cest, Viktor falls in love with the boy in the mirror, Young Viktor Nikiforov, in a totally non-narcissistic way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 08:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16425518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoyalMouse/pseuds/TheLoyalMouse
Summary: Viktor blinks slowly.“Hello,” says the boy, blinking back at him. He tilts his head, bird-like and fragile. “Do I know you?”“No,” says Viktor, and if he tries hard enough he can pretend he isn’t talking to himself in front of a mirror. “If you’re lucky, you’ll never know me at all.”Written for the YoIRarePairZine - I've never tried my hand on writing self-cest before. And I struggled with it. A lot. But hey - all's well that ends well, right?





	for the caged bird sings (of yearning)

Viktor blinks slowly.

“Hello,” says the boy, blinking back at him. He tilts his head, bird-like and fragile. “Do I know you?”

“No,” says Viktor, and if he tries hard enough he can pretend he isn’t talking to himself in front of a mirror. “If you’re lucky, you’ll never know me at all.”

That’s it, he thinks. I’ve finally lost my marbles. 

Is he surprised? Not very much. He hasn’t been himself anymore for quite a while now. Long enough that he doesn’t even remember who he is supposed to be, anyway.

This is just consequential. The way his madness is manifesting itself, though, comes as a surprise. Seems like his mind can’t even do normal when it comes to going crazy.

“I don’t understand,” the reflection of Viktor’s past says with a slight frown that makes his still-boyish features look strangely serious. “Are you unhappy?”

That is when he loses it.

He avoids looking in the mirror for two whole days.

The voice is harder to ignore.

*

“It’s pretty lonely over here.”

Viktor tries to go through with his usual morning routine like there’s nothing wrong. He tries. The way he grips his toothbrush threatens to break it in two. 

The water is swirling down the drain. He counts the chips in the enamel coating of the sink. It doesn’t make the voice go away.

He steels himself and finally looks up.

“What do you want from me?” he wants to know.

“I was wondering if we could be friends.”

A hollow laugh escapes his throat. “Friends? I don’t have friends.”

The boy - he still can’t bring himself to completely acknowledge who he is - looks away. “Neither do I.”

For a second Viktor contemplates taking him up on his offer. Then he drops his toothbrush in the sink and leaves.

*

He caves, right after Worlds. He took gold again, of course. The empty feeling in his chest is so overwhelming, he’s afraid he might die. Worse, he’s not sure he should even be afraid. Wouldn’t it be the best outcome he could hope for?

His young self - at one point he started thinking of him as Vitya - seems genuinely happy to see him. Viktor can’t remember the last time somebody looked at him this way. His eyes light up and he leans so close to the mirror, his long hair touches the glittering surface.

Viktor doesn’t know what he expects. But when he reaches out and all his fingers touch is smooth cool glass, it’s weirdly disappointing.

“I’m glad you changed your mind.” Absentmindedly, Vitya pushes a strand that has escaped from his ponytail behind his ear. 

The memories of what it felt like to wear his hair long are almost visceral. Viktor swallows. “I… don’t know what I’m even doing here.”

Except that he does.

He’s trying not to lose his mind. The irony of it almost makes him smile. 

Almost.

*

He starts talking to Vitya on a regular basis. Of course he always checks that he’s alone before sitting down in front of the dressing table. That no one will be able to overhear him talking to himself. He might be crazy, but he’s not stupid. They’d put him in a straightjacket before he knew what was happening.

The strange thing is: It actually helps.

Having someone to open up to - someone who  _ gets  _ it - is comforting in a way Viktor wouldn’t have thought possible. 

Vitya is bright and witty and he makes Viktor laugh. A real, genuine laugh, not the fake smiles he reserves for the media.

“You look sad,” Vitya notices. “Not when everyone is looking, but when you think no one can see.” His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. It’s obviously something he’s been thinking about for a while. He searches Viktor’s face for the answer, but apparently can’t find it.

“Is the life we lead not a happy one?” he asks.

“I think it’s much happier now that you’re in it,” Viktor answers honestly.

*

There is no sudden epiphany.

Looking back he can’t tell when his feelings for the boy in the mirror start to shift. Just that they do.

“I wish I could touch you.” The words leave his mouth before he can stop them. 

Vitya’s hand pauses, before he goes back to brushing the silvery strands in long, smooth strokes. “Don’t be silly. I’m just the manifestation of your madness. You said so yourself, remember?”

“Do you think so too?” Viktor wants to know. The thing is, he’s not sure what to think anymore. Just that he likes to spend time with Vitya, and that he feels a million times better than before they first met.

A part of him still thinks he might be going crazy. But what if he’s not?

The following days he spends most of his ice breaks researching mysterious phenomena online. They say you can find everything on the internet. If that’s true, he’s looking in all the wrong places.

*

“What are you doing?” Vitya scrunches up his nose when he’s confused. Viktor only recently realized that he does exactly the same thing. 

He goes on draping strings of dried daisies around the framing of the dressing mirror. Next are six thick, cloyingly sweet-smelling candles. He arranges them in a half-circle on the desk and lights them with a match.

“Viktor?”

Viktor takes a deep breath. “I’m just trying something, okay? Don’t make me explain it.”

He feels weird enough about it as it is. This is a new level of insane and he knows it.

A fond smile lightens up Vitya’s face. “I recognize this from Irina. She always lights candles for good luck before a competition. Viktor, are you… trying some kind of magic ritual?”

“Shut up.” Viktor can’t help the blush creeping up his neck. He doesn’t look up and instead focuses on the preparations. The last thing he needs is a personal item of the person he wants to summon. He went through a lot of boxes until he found the moth-eaten stuffed toy he used to take everywhere with him as a boy. 

Vitya’s eyes widen. “Is that…?” When he starts to cry it hits Viktor with the force of a freight train. “I thought I lost him,” Vitya hiccups. “Where did you  _ find  _ him?”

Viktor reaches out. The urge to touch Vitya - to hold him, to comfort him - has never been this strong. His heart is pounding in his ears. Please, he pleads to nothing and no one in particular. Please, just this once. Let me hold him just this once.

His fingers touch the cold, unforgiving surface of the mirror.

*

The ritual - unsurprisingly - doesn’t work.

Viktor catches himself staring into the distance more often again, trying to will away the feelings that tie him up inside. 

Of course Vitya knows.

“You’re sad - and this time it’s my fault. Maybe I should just go away and …”

“No!” 

Viktor is not ashamed of how desperate he sounds. Nor of the tears that spring to his eyes and spill over his cheeks, leaving trails of heat on his flushed skin.

He might not know a lot of things. He has no idea of his purpose in life, or what he’s supposed to do when he can’t skate anymore. But there’s one singular thing he knows for sure: He doesn’t want Vitya to leave.

“Please,” he sobs, his hands reaching out, even though it’s impossible to touch. But he wants to. He wants with all the force his shrivelled little heart is capable of. 

And maybe that’s what does it. Or maybe it’s just been one big cosmic joke all along, and whatever entity has been laughing at Viktor’s pathetic flailing around, finally deigns to show some mercy.

The matter of the fact is, his hand sinks through the surface of the mirror like it’s nothing but air.

With a gasp of surprise he closes his fingers around a slender wrist.

Viktor and Vitya both stare at the point where they are connected now. Then their eyes meet.

And Viktor  _ pulls _ .

*

He’s slouching on the loveseat in the living room, Makka dozing with her head on his knee. The movie he’s been watching until a couple minutes ago is paused. The hero frozen on screen mid-movement with a hilarious expression on his face. 

Tomorrow, he’s going to have a big press conference and announce his retirement. He’s twenty-eight now, and his body is, miraculously, still mostly intact. His savings will last him a while, so he can figure out what he wants to do with the rest of his life without too much financial pressure. He has won everything there is to win. But more important than that: The ice is not his sole purpose in life anymore.

“And you’re sure you want me to come with you tomorrow?” Vitya flops onto the seat next to him with a bowl of popcorn and starts munching on it. “My existence will raise a lot of questions.”

Viktor chuckles. “I bet it will. But they’ll find out anyway, eventually. I’m not going to hide you, you know.”

The bowl is set aside and Viktor finds himself with a lapful of smiling eighteen year-old. “You really don’t, do you?” Vitya asks, eyes bright with wonder.

“No.” Viktor kisses Vitya’s temples, smells the jasmine in his hair. “Not for one second.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you foxfireflamequeen for helping me fight a way through this <3333


End file.
